Roots and Rocks

They reach everywhere, dark and
contorted, a wide-reaching tangle
of roots splaying over the steep
mountain trail. The better to trip
the unwary, unheeding hiker. But
this is, after all, the habitat of these
looming forest giants, the pines and
hemlocks, maples and beech whose
offspring luxuriate under their
forbears' canopy, in the rich organic
soil of earlier such great species,
felled by time and woodsmen.

Step lightly and be aware not only
of those strangling roots threatening
the progress of intrepid bipedal advance,
but the rocks scattered on the landscape
surrounded by the granite peaks from
whose slopes they were dislodged many
ages ago. Consider the rocks, so deeply
embedded, stepping stones for the
breathless ascent to the mountain's far
summit, well above the treeline.

Listen in the process, to the fresh
clear sound of the cold mountain
stream as it too tumbles over boulders
interrupting downward passage,
sending cool spray to vaporize into
the air from the waterfalls thus
created, where mosses grow thick,
green and lush over trunks and soil.

Hear the thrushes' songs reverberate
through the forest, see the flight of an
Eastern Kingbird, a downy woodpecker.
Note the presence of oaks siding the
trail as you rise, and the prevalence
of tiny chipmunks whisking their way
over the roots and the rocks, their element.

There are, in the undergrowth, dogwood,
sensitive ferns, moose maple and sumac.
Beside the trail, dank, wet, rich bog and
here and there, lilies and orchids, blackberry
canes and blueberry patches. The ascent
steeper, more dauntingly arduous,
the trees stunted in weather-agonized
shapes. Oak and azalea thrive, along with
laurel and small, twisted pines. Mountain
sorrel blooming, and birds on the wing.

The terrain becomes bare with huge
granite ledges and wide, smooth slopes;
rainwater captured in small, ubiquitous
granite sinkholes. Gaze, from this height,
on the miniature landscape far below.
Count, if you can, neighbourly peaks
marching into the far distance.

Marvel at the wide, deep bowl of the
over-arching sky, the placid white and
fringed clouds, hastily moving off to
make way for others, more aggressively
dark and hostile. Tree roots there are
none here, but a glut of tiny, delicate
alpine plants. Of rock there is a defined,
defiant and deliberate presence.